


you make me melt (like marshmallows in hot chocolate)

by breaththatwalks



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas fic, F/M, M/M, Multi, embarrassing amounts of fluff, heh, hot chocolate discourse, i hate all of these gays, i mean guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:39:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9130849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breaththatwalks/pseuds/breaththatwalks
Summary: It was the sudden rush of cold air down the back of his neck that told Courfeyrac that the rest of his friends had arrived."The rest of our friends have arrived," he informed Combeferre solemnly, who was curled up on the couch with his head in Courf's lap."Mmph." replied Combeferre.





	

**** It was the sudden rush of cold air down the back of his neck that told Courfeyrac that the rest of his friends had arrived.

"The rest of our friends have arrived," he informed Combeferre solemnly, who was curled up on the couch with his head in Courf's lap.

"Mmph." replied Combeferre.

"Holy FUCK it's cold out there!" someone shouted, presumably Bahorel.

"It's cold out," relayed Courfeyrac. Combeferre ignored him and continued snoring softly, glasses pressing slightly uncomfortably on Courfeyrac's thigh.

Red cheeked from the cold and laughing loudly, his friends trouped into the kitchen, lead by Bahorel who appeared to have fought the abominable snowman and lost, judging my the amount of snow in his hair. Feuilly was trying to brush the snow off of Jehan's hat (purple, adorable, and apparently hand-made, noted Courf) but was only succeding in getting it into Marius's face, who was sneezing loudly and looked miserable. Cosette and Éponine appeared to be arguing over whether apple cider or hot chocolate was a better winter drink (Hot chocolate, obviously. Cider was for heathens who didn't appreciate caffeine).

"Aren't you guys a little old for snowball fights?"

Éponine stopped her argument long enough to turn and stick her tongue out at him. "Wake sleeping beauty up, your host skills are lacking," she said, dropping her mittens unceremoniously onto the floor next to the boots. "Fuck, even Enjolras was better then this." 

Courf frowned. They all knew that in their apartment, Enjolras was the rude one, Combeferre was the cook, and Courfeyrac was the life of the party. Which was why their apartment was currently decked out in all shades of paper chains, christmas lights and a huge christmas tree that towered in the corner. He, Enjolras and Combeferre has decorated it last weekend, before Enjolras had skipped out of town on another crusade. Enjolras had ended up piggybacking Courfeyrac to place the star on top, with Combeferre laughing in the corner -

Ah, the problem at hand. Combeferre. He poked his cheek carefully, but the taller man only twitched. 

A glass shattered on the floor.  _"MARIUS!"_ eveyone hissed collectively, as the redhead stood sheepishly in the corner, surrounded by broken glass.

Combeferre sat up slowly, having been jolted by the cuffufle in the kitchen. God, no one should have the right the be that adorable. It's unfair. It's distasteful. It's simply rude, that's what it was. 

The boy beside promptly yawned, shattering Courf's carefully planned arguments on making cuteness illegal. "Oh hey, guys. When did you all get here?"

Courfeyrac swooned a little. But only a little.

By the time Musichette, Joly and Bossuet arrived (bearing three bottles of whiskey, his friends were so wonderful sometimes), the party was in full swing. Bahorel and Marius were loudly debating the tree decoration placements, Feuilly was hanging stockings (he was pretty sure Jehan HAND-MADE stockings for everyone. did he mention he loved Jehan?).

"I love you, Jehan." proclaimed Courfeyrac. His declaration went largely unnoticed over the din of "Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer" being blasted at full volume. Also, the fact that all his friends seemed to be having the time of their lives. Except Grantaire.

Grantaire was pacing in the corner by the Christmas tree speaking quietly into his cell phone. His brow was furrowned and one hand kept reaching up to run a hand through his hair. Cosette, eyes tracking his movements, finally leaned over to where Courfeyrac was seated on the sofa. "What's got his kinckers in a twist?", asked Cosette, speaking quietly to avoid being heard over Joly, Musichetta and Bossuet harmonizing to the music blaring from the speakers. It was a pretty picture, Joly sitting acorss the two of them as Chetta ruffled his hair. 

"Enjolras is stuck in the airport due to the snow. He was supposed to make it out here for Christmas Eve, but " Courfeyrac nodded his head in the direction of the window, where the snowflakes were coming down thick and hard. Cosette nodded in understanding, large blue eyes watching Grantaire's path as he paced. Grantiare and Enjolras ha d only been dating a few months (finally, FINALLY after Combeferre had walked in and slapped Enjolras upside the head after a particularly nasty spat at the Musain that had Grantiare storming out and Enjolras desolate. "He's only fighting you so much because he loves you, idiot. Now can you please stop torturing the boy and run after him?") but it was the happiest two months in both of their lives. Grantaire hadn't touched a whiskey bottle in five weeks, Enjolras had started getting more then 3 hours of sleep each night. Also, the reduced sexual tension had cleared up everyone's annoying headaches.

"What? No, Enj, I can't heat you, I think you're cutting out- Enj? Enjolras?" 

Feuilly and Bahorel were starting to send nervous glances their way. Grantaire took the phone from his ear and frowned at it, before placing it back. "Apollo? Can you hear me?"

There was a tense silence for a few seconds, as the rest of the room watched Grantiare as he waited, straining his ears for the sound of his boyfriend's voice. There was no sound. Finally, R jabbed the off button, shoving the phone is his pocket. No one looked him in the eyes as he slumped into the loveseat, eyes downcast. Courf winced. This was not exactly his image of a happy christmas.

Beside him, Cosette sighed softly before getting up and walking to the kitchen,emerging after a minute heading in R's direction. She went over and handed him a cup of cider (in his favourite mug, the one Bossuet got him for christmas that said "Egalité, Fraternité, Beyoncé.") and pulled a blanket over his knees. His face relaxed into a smile, one reserved for when Enjolras fell asleep in the sun or Jehan started making flower crowns. Happy smile. He said something that looked like "thank you" before kissing her on the forehead. God, Courf loved Cosette sometimes.

One second thought, as she walked over the the armchair where Marius sat and promplty started making out with him, she did have her off moments.

Yes, yes, he understood, Christmas was a time for love and romance and kissing under mistletoe. Of course, this would have been a lot more fun if HE had someone to kiss under mistletoe and make snow angels with and share cups of hot chocolate, maybe with someone with eyes the same color as hot chocolate and glasses that fogged up in the cold and a stupid crinkly smile-

"You all right? You look like you're about to turn one of these candy canes into a point and stabbing it into a jugular." Combeferre appeared above him, as if God had heard his thoughts and decided to taunt him in the worst way possible. Nothing like some cozy Christmas atmosphere to remind you of how in love you are with your best friend. Thanks, God.

"Candy themed murder, my favourite." Combeferre smiled, pulling up the blanket and settling beside Courfeyrac on the sofa. Courf tried to ignore the feeling of his warm thigh pressed against him, he really did. Or the way Combeferre's collar was wrinkled a bit in a way that made him want to reach over and fix it. Or how his bright red Christmas sweater (Star Wars themed christmas sweater. Only Combeferre could pull that off) brought out the warm browns in his eyes.

"You might want to avoid murdering them for a bit, I just checked outside and the snow is almost a foot deep. We're gonna be stuck together for awhile."

Courf's eyes widened. "Snowed in? For real?" Peering over Combeferre's shoulder (nice, broad shoulder) and out the window, he could see the snowpiles getting dangerously high. Fuck.

"You do know what this means, right?"

"We have to watched Marius try and kiss Cosette under every single piece of mistletoe?" came Combeferre's dry response.

"No no no. We're snowed in. Who knows for how long." He looked Combeferre squarely in the eyes. "You and me are going to have to repopulate the earth."

Combeferre stared at him for a long moment, before bursting into loud laughter. And okay, he kept laughing. And maybe Courfeyrac was getting a bit insulted cause yea, that was meant to be a joke but was the idea of having sex with him THAT hilarious, I mean plenty of other people were into him so why did Combeferre think this was so funny-

"Courf, you do realize gay sex isn't exactly the best way of reproduction, right?"

Courf flushed involuntairly. Oh. So Combeferre WAS considering it. So his only problem with it was science, not the whole sex part. With him. Him and Combeferre, wrapped up in bed somewhere with blankets and and pillows and - Combeferre, who was currently watching him curiously. How long had he been staring? A minute? Two minutes? "Ha ha ha," he laughed weakly, hoping 'Ferre wouldn't notice. "Sorry, I'll ask Eponine instead."

Pushing the blanket off his knees and getting up, Courfeyac walked quickly to the kitchen, missing the frown that crept onto Combeferre's face as he walked away. 

He reached the kitchen island, where Eponine was mixing drinks. "Eggnog, alcoholic enough to forget about tonight by tomorrow morning", he said in lieu of a greeting. She looked at him in concern, raising her eyebrows as she took in his flushed cheeks and distressed expression.

"Whoa there, Whiskey Clause, slow down. We don't need a repeat of New Years." Courfeyrac winced, remembering the night he had taken one/fifteen jello shots too many. He was pretty sure the night had ended with him stripping on the bar in the Musain, convered in glitter. Also, someone dyed Marius's hair green.

"What's got you so worked up? Isn't this your Christmas party, joy and good will to all and everything?" She somehow managed to put air quotes around her sentence while both hands were currently making a him a drink that was probably more alcoholic then wise. If Eponine was a master of anything, it was sarcasm and knowing when to drink. 

He leaned forward, resting both elbows on the countertop. "Ep, you know about being in love with a friend, right?"

She threw him a sharp glance. Right. While she and Monteparnasse appeared to have reached some kind of an agreement (dating? friends with benefits? he wasn't entirely sure), the Marius thing was still a sore subject.

"I know a bit."

Courf gave up, flopping down so his head thunked the countertop. "How do you live?!?"

Something cold was pressed against his hand, which turned out to be a glass that looked about 50% eggnog and 50% hard liquor and regret. As he slurped it gratefully, wincing a little at the sting in his throat, Eponine stpped back and crossed her arms, looking at him thoughtfully. "This wouldn't happen to be about the guy whose currently staring at your back like it's got the Mona Lisa painted on it, would it?"

Courf whipped around and, sure enough, there was Combeferre, looking at him in concern. Did he look that bad? The alcohol wasn't setting in already, was it? He managed to wiggle his fingers at him, before turning back to face Eponine. "I'm not that obvious, am I?"

Her look got a little more smug. "Sweetie, as a personal expert at hiding romantic feelings, you're worse then the time Enjolras spilled beer all over his shirt at the Musain and took it off, and Grantaire promptly knocked over a table"

"Don't call me sweetie." was Courfeyrac's cutting reply, before grabbing his drink and going to sulk in peace.

By the time his drink was finished, the atmospehere had loosened up considerably. Grantaire had gotten over himself and was eating popcorn with Eponine, leaning back to back (though he did glance at his phone every five minutes. They pretended not to notice.) Cosette had put in "The Nightmare Before Christmas" ("That's not a christmas movie, it's a Halloween movie!" "Marius, I love you, but shut the hell up.") and Courfeyrac was pressed next to Bahoral on the couch, who was allowing himself to be used as a personal teddy bear. So Courf was a clingy drunk, who cares? At least he wasn't staring at Combeferre the whole time. (Actually, he kinda was, but he was pretty sure 'Ferre was looking at him too, so it wasn't HIS fault.) 

The triplets had taken the love seat and were squashed together, Cosette and Marius were on the other side of the couch from Courf, and Feuilly and Jehan were sprawled comfortably on the carpet. It was a relaxing scene, really. So when the sharp knocks on the door came, everyone promptly fell out of their seats.

Courf may have screamed and climbed into Bahorel's lap. Unrelated.

The wind was still howling outside, so the question of "who the hell is out in this weather" was clearly audible.  ("Santa?" whispered Bahorel. Eponine slapped him upside the head.) Grantaire, who was closest to the door, got shoved by Cosette to open it. "If this turns out to be a Christmas themed ax murderer, I'm gonna haunt all of you," Grantaire said over his shoulder as he strode over to the door and flung it open. 

And promptly froze.

A small snowpile was starting to build around his shoes, but before Courf could yell at him to get inside before he flooded the house, Grantaire got enveloped by a wave of snow.

(Well, to be completely accurate, he got hugged by a figure so covered with snow he looked vaguely like a snowman. Details)

"Enj?!!?"

The two broke apart long enough for everyone to see that yes, the Abominable Snowman hugging Grantaire was a slightly blue Enjolras, blond curls frozen in place from cold. Grantaire stood stock still for a moment, both arms wrapped instinctively around his boyfriend, before coming too and grabbing Enjolras's arms and looking him in the eyes. "Enjolras? What the hell are you doing here? The roads were closing and it's been snowing nonstop- jesus, you're fucking  _ blue _ ." Indeed, the tip of Enjolras's nose was starting to match his eyes (Courf had heard years' worth of material on the color of Enjolras's eyes). There were small pools of water forming under his jacket, and Grantaire hurried to take it off of him, grabbing the red woolen hat and scarf off of him too. Pressing both of his palm's to his boyfriend's face, Grantaire watched as Enjolras signed a little, leaning into the warmth.

"Well, your phone cut out while we were talking, and it's  _ Christmas,  _ and I'm supposed to be here for Christmas and what if it cut out because you were hurt or something-"

"Wait wait wait. You drove, I don't know, 80 kilometers in the asscrack of winter just to see if  _ I _ was okay?"

Enjolras huffed a little. "78 kilometers."

Grantaire raised his eyebrows.

"My car broke down, so I walked the last two."

The whole room went silent for a moment.

Shaking his head in disbelief, R hung his head a little, huffing a laugh that was half amusement, half frustration. "I swear, you are the most idiotic, self sacrificing, stubborn person I've ever met. Also idiotic. Did I mention idiotic?"

"But it's  _ Christmas,"   _ said Enjolras, looking earnestly into his boyfriend's eyes. "Thats what couples do, right? Celebrate Christmas?" 

Okay, Enjolras wasn't known for being the best at relationships. Or emotions, really. Which was why everyone was taken aback by how much effort he had been putting into his relationship with Grantaire, going so far as too  _ actually research  _ what couples normally did on dates. It was vaguely endearing, actually. At least Grantaire thought so, Grantaire who- 

Oh.

Grantaire, who was currently fisting both hands in Enjolras's sweater and pulling him forward, kissing him so hard that he looked like he was trying to transfer all of his body heat into Enj's shivering form.  

("Awwwww," said someone, presumably Jehan)

Courf was inclined to agree. It was kind of adorable, the way they instinctivly fit together. A real Christmas fairy tale, he though to himself. He looked around the room and everyone was watching the scene with similarily soft expressions,except Joly, who was looking concernedly at Enjolras's wet clothes and whispering to Bossuet. ("He looks feverish. Do you think he has a cold? Grantaire really shouldn't be kissing him unless he wants the flu.") As he scanned, his eyes instinctivly sought out Combeferre, who was watching the scene play out with a small smile and something akin to longing in his eyes. Courf frowned. Maybe he was just projecting his own desire for intimacy onto this. but no, there was defitnelty something sad about his face. 

That was stupid. No one with features that attractive should be sad. As if sensing his thoughts, brown eyes behind black glasses flew up to meet Courf's eyes, shifting from longing to questioning. Courfeyrac realized he must look vaguely ridiculous, frowning at his best friend while everyone else was cooing. Combeferre smiled at him, slightly uncertainly, and Courf instictively smiled back.

Stupid smiling reflexes.

Finlly, the couple broke apart to come up for air, Grantaire giggling a bit and Enjolras's cheeks now tinged pink. "I, um," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I brought presents?"

The group hurried to get them seated by the fire, draping a blanket over Enj's shoulders to ease Joly's fretting. Musichetta dragged her boyfriend away by the arm, seating herself on his lap to stop him from mothering anyone.  Cosette, who was now wearing an elf hat, dropped by to kiss Enjolras's cheek before helping herself to the blond's backpack, grabbing the presents within. As she chose a blue one and flounced over to Marius to put in on his lap. Her boyfriend smiled and tapped her nose. 

Courf scowled a little.

Gazing the room from his seat on the carpet, he found Bossuet feeding Joly a snickerdoodle, Marius leaning on Cosette's shoulder as his cheeks flushed a tipsy red, Grantaire and Éponine telling a very animated story to a laughing Combeferre, who was tipping his head back in laughter, showing the dark lines of his throat. He forced himself to tear his eyes away, instead scowling at the now-empty eggnog cup in his hand.

"Oh, lighten up babe. Santa's not gonna leave you any presents if you're naughty" cooed  Musichetta, dropping something soft on his head as she passed him. His fingers crept up to feel white fur - a santa hat. Perfect. 

He stood up indignantly, fully intending to stalk to the kitchen dramatically to pour himself another cup, whenthe floor tipped a little and he found himself leaning on the couch armrest for support. Damn, Éponine really knew how to mix them

He reached the kitchen with minimal difficulty, placing his cup on the counter. He stood there a moment, simply staring into the abyss that was his backsplash, before slumping forward rest his elbows on the counter, head tipped forward. God, why did everything have to be so  _hard?_

"You're not looking very jolly"

Courf whirled around the find,  _of course_ , Combeferre leaning against the doorway and smirking at his headwear. Stupid smirk. "Aren't you supposed be the most festive one around? I seem to remember, what two years ago?" Combeferre put a finger to his chin, cleary mock thinking as he looked above him. "I seem to remember  _someone_ threatening to shove festive cheer up all our asses if we didn't stop, ahem, killing his vibe."

The shorter boy only managed a weak smile at that, more distracted by the way that Combeferre was starting to step forward, the lights above them glinting off his glasses. "You know, red is a good colour on you," he said quietly, hand coming up to pull at one of Courf's curls, twisting it between his fingers. "Compliments your skin."

Combeferre was closer now, almost too close, and Courfeyrac's back hit th e fridge. His neck craned upwards, eyes flitting between both of Combeferre's, searching for something,  _anything_ , that would give him a clue to what the hell was happening right now. 

The taller boy leaned forward, leaned until his lips were just touching the other boy's ear. "Look up," he whispered.

Coureyrac looked up. 

Oh.

The single spring of mistletoe, hung there presumably to catch Grantaire and Enjolras, was right above him.

He looked down, mouth ready to say something, when Combeferre kissed him.

He kissed him, placing both hands on Courf's cheeks to hold him steady, framing his face as he kissed him, and kissed him.

They broke apart with barely a inch between them, breathing in tandem, as Courf tried to figure out the clusterfuck of thougts in his head.

"Oh." he said.

Combeferre leaned back, hands still on Courfeyrac's cheeks, smiling that stupid smile of his that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. "So, I think you said something about repopulating the earth?"

Courfeyrac could only nod, still slightly slack-jawed. "Uh huh. Right now. I'm pretty sure that should be our first priority, since we don't know how long it will take for the snow to stop or the archeologists to dig us out-"

Combeferre kissed him again.

He kissed him deeper, his hand curving to wrap around Courf's neck and he pulled him closer, tongue swiping along the seam of his lips. Courfeyrac gasped, allowing Combeferre to slip his tongue into his mouth. Oh, so he was playing dirty. Courf retaliated,shifting so one of Ferre's legs slipped between his, grinding ever-so-slightly forward until Ferre made a delicious little noise, a noise that promised much, much louder noises later when they were alone. Their noses brishedas their mouths adjsuted coneccting again as every press of Combeferrre's soft lips left him feeling lighter, happier, like the only thing grounding him was the hand gripping his neck and the other gripping his waist.

Courf's hands had slid up to wrap around Combeferre's shoulders, clenching in the soft fabic of his sweater (seriously, anyone who could make Darth Vader in a santa hat look sexy should be outlawed. SERIOUSLY), and by the time they broke apart, there were probalby enough wrinkles to last for days. Courfeyrac was pretty sure his cheeks were starting to match the santa hat he was wearing. 

"Or. Or we could do that some more."

"Hate to break up the party," and oh, has Courfeyrac ever mentioned he hates Eponine? Because right now, standing in the door way with a smug smile on her face, she's at _least_ in his top three. "But Enjolras brought presents for everyone, and unless we start opening I think he and Grantaire are going to start making use of how many bedrooms your apartment has."

Courfeyrac grimaced. "That's just gross, Ep." But Combeferre backed away with a small smile, and Courfeyrac loosened his death grip on the sweater, and he almost forgot how much he wanted to stab Eponine when Combeferre laced their fingers together and tugged him forward. Okay, he could get used to that.

By the time they sat down, Jehan had started braiding ribbons into his hair and Enjolras was leaning against Grantaire's legs, looking blissed out as his boyfriend carded his fingers through his hair. Combeferre, best human being in the universe, immediatly went to go them some hot chocolate.

"Combeferre is the best human being in the universe," he informed Cosette, who was seated beside him.

"I know, sweetie."

He didn't even protest the nickname as 'Ferre sat down next to him, carefully balancing two mugs of liquid chocolate. Truly, nothing could be better then this. Courfeyrac reached for a mug, soaking in the warmth from the porcelain.

Wait.

Something was wrong here.

"Where are the marshmallows?"

Combeferre somehow managed to look attractive while looking perplexed. "I. I don't put marshmallows in hot chocolate?"

Courfeyrac was pretty sure his gasp could be heard in China. "In what possibly world do people not put marshmallows in hot chocolate??"

Combeferre, unfazed by Courfeyrac’s drama queen ways, simply shrugged. "I just don't like marshmallows, I guess."

Setting his mug carefully down on the table, Courfeyrac reached out and firmly grabbed Combeferre face, hands framing his face so his fingertips brushed Combeferre ears. He looked adorably confused, that bastard. "'Ferre. I love you. But not liking marshmallows means you basically hate all joy and love on this earth."

" . . .Did you just say you love me?"

"THAT'S NOT THE POINT HERE!"

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fanfiction in over a year jfc I wrote this for last christmas, missed the publishing date and then missed it again this year but ANYWAY finally posted it
> 
> this is un-beta'd - hmu with any spelling mistakes


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